Uncovered Holes
by green.pepsi.cola
Summary: State funding has been recieved at CGL and slowly seven girls are being introduced as an experimental co op program. Rated for mild language, future situations. If you are not mature enough to deal with it, don't read. Romances possible.
1. Holes Files

Holes Files

Name: Caden Barlow AKA Fighter

Age:16

Build: 6'1 average

Hair(length & colour): waist length black w/ hot pink bangs

Eyes(colour & shape): charcoal almond

Heritage: Venezuelan/unknown

Disorders: none

Crime: various

Sentence: 36 mo.

Other: fearless, street, smart illiterate, aloof, out of control

(song – BYOB by System of a Down)

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Name:Carmen Soledad AKA Pyro

Age:16

Build: 6'2, curvy

Hair(length & colour): chin, dark brown

Eyes(colour & shape): deep brown, wide

Heritage: Hispanic/Puerto Rican/Columbian

Disorders: paranoia, ADHD (medication), pyromania

Crime: arson

Sentence: 12 mo.

Other: stubborn, doesn't like loud noises, tough, independent

(song – Kerosene by Miranda Lambert)

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Name: Kai Kapanaha AKA Bang

Age:15

Build: 5'0, athletic

Hair(length & colour): shoulder light brown hair

Eyes(colour & shape): hazel/gray almond

Heritage: Hawaiian/Japanese

Disorders: Obsessive-Compulsive Anxiety Disorder (medication)

Crime: stealing pistol

Sentence: 11 mo.

Other: loud, avoidant, unintentionally rude, speaks 3 languages

(song – Bang Bang by Cher)

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Name: Jolene Astaire AKA Mare

Age: 16

Build: 5'11, lanky thin

Hair(length & colour): waist, platinum blonde

Eyes(colour & shape): aquamarine, round

Heritage: Swedish/Finnish

Disorders: none

Crime: underage drinking/stealing horse

Sentence: 16 mo

Other: quiet, keeps to self, talented runner

(song – Wild Horses by Keith Richards)

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Name: Bryann Evangra AKA Karma

Age: 15

Build: 4'10, small

Hair(length & colour): pixie cut, black w/ blue highlights

Eyes(colour & shape): pale green, round

Heritage: African-American

Disorders: none

Crime: prostitution, excessive graffiti, eluding police, disturbing peace

Sentence:18 mo.

Other: talented singer, loves dancing, history of insanity

(song – Fancy by Bobbie Gentry)

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Name: Kathleen Lovelace AKA Moody

Age: 17

Build: 5'6, curvy

Hair(length & colour): mid-back, red w/ green tips

Eyes(colour & shape): golden brown, large, wide

Heritage: Irish/Gaelic

Disorders: anger issues, emotional problems

Crime: assault

Sentence:14 mo.

Other: proud, protective

(song – Manic Depression by Jimi Hendrix)

--------------------------------------------

Name: Astrid Valhalla AKA Whisper

Age: 17

Build: 6'0 small featured, tall, average

Hair(length & colour): thigh, platinum blonde w/ black underlay

Eyes(colour & shape): black eyes w/ bright green flecks, wide

Heritage: Swedish/Finnish/German, half sister to Mare

Disorders: none

Crime: hotwiring camaro

Sentence: 24 mo., 2nd offense

Other: speech complications/lisp, slightly delusional, drifts between real world and imagined creation, abused by former boyfriend

(song – Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks)


	2. Poco Combatiente

Disclaimer: Exactly. I own Holes. That is exactly the reason for me writing this crappy FANFICTION. Because I wrote the book. Yes, that makes perfect sense…OF COURSE I DON'T OWN IT! I do however own my original characters. And there will be many. Just you wait.

(A/N: The odd number of stories I have posted was bugging the hell out of me. So I've decided to put this one up! Tell me if a character list would be helpful. Also I realize usually people don't really like Holes stories with girls in them but I don't really care so it doesn't matter! Mwahahahaha)

**Uncovered Holes**

_Chapter 1: Poco Combatiente_

POV – Caden AKA Fighter

All my life I've been given shitty choices. Foster home or girls' home. Bad soup or table scraps. The latest was different. Actually, it wasn't really a choice at all. It was Camp Green Lake or Camp Green Lake. A juvenile boys work camp. JUVENILE BOYS CAMP. I guess that's what you get when you're the descendant of the greatest female outlaw in the Southwest. I think you know who I'm talking about. You're really daft if you don't. I don't know why they wanted to sent me to an all boys camp in Texas. Can you believe it? Texas, of all places.

The bus was hot and smelly. The driver was old, fat, and unfriendly. The cop with the rifle had the personality of a wet mop and was about as talkative. The first person I met was a stocky old man with a potbelly and a pistol in his belt, a cowboy hat, a scowl, Elvis sideburns, and a bag of sunflower seeds on his poor excuse for a desk. He was sitting in an air-conditioned office, if you could call it that. Really it was only a small cramped room with a desk, swivel chair, filing cabinet, and a hard-backed wooden chair for the new prisoners. Upon entering I read the grimy sign nailed to the front of the building, which read:

'You are entering Camp Green Lake Juvenile Correctional Facility. It is a violation of the Texas Penal Code to bring guns, explosives, weapons, drugs, or alcohol on the premises.'

What a useless sign. A caveman would know that.(a/n: no pun intended) They didn't need a sign to declare it. "You ain't gonna get no fancy treatment at Camp Green Lake, 'cept I can't check your bag on account of what the Warden here calls 'ladylike reasons'. When you speak to me you will call me Mr. Sir, got all that?" We went into a small building next to the 'office'. He threw two large hideous orange jumpsuits and a heavy pair of black boots at me, narrowly missing my head. I squeaked and ducked. "Judge says she don't talk." The cop said, leaving me stranded in the desert in a camp full of boys who had broken the law. "Change." He ordered, and I gave him an incredulous look. "Go on, change." The boy behind the clothes desk looked amused. I crossed my arms over my chest, matched his scowl, and stomped my foot like a four year old child. "Fine, whatever. Change in the tent, then. You'll be surrounded by boys anyway. I hope you brought a swimsuit for the showers." I didn't care. The tent full of boys were not all 50 year old men.

"Caden Barlow, I want you to know that even though you've done some bad things – "I turned around, glaring, expecting to see a tough looking person. Instead I was met with dead air. "D-doesn't m-make y-ou a b-bad p-p-person." He stammered shakily. I looked down about a foot. There he was, the dorkiest looking little man I'd ever seen. I'm about pretty tall to begin with, so naturally I'm used to being taller than quite a few people, but this was ridiculous – he had to be five feet or less. He wore long shorts, (now this is a contradiction) brown knee socks which I presumed were a considerable amount whiter when he bought them, a long sleeved sand coloured safari shirt, and a dirty floppy sun hat. White sun block smothered his nose, his ears stuck out comically, and the entire side of his face was bruised in what I could have sworn was the shape of a shovel. I raised my eyebrow at him. "Well." He squeaked, his voice higher than before if that was physically possible. "You'll be in D-Tent. Follow me." He pointed out buildings scattered around and named them as we went. "And that's the Warden's cabin. Number one rule here is do not upset the Warden. This tent." Inside were eight cots and seven boys scattered around, mostly on the floor. "Mom you told her about the lizards, right?" A tall boy with frizzy blond hair asked as soon as they set foot inside the tent. "Now Ricky, lets not scare her on her first day. She'll find out about the lizards soon enough." I looked around. There were two African-American boys, one skinny with coke bottle glasses and the other considerably round, a Hispanic boy, a twitchy little boy who looked no older than thirteen, an average sized boy wearing a torn white baseball cap, and another younger looking boy in the corner cot with his back turned.

"Caden –" He squeaked, trying to sound cheerful while eying her suspiciously. "This is Theodore, Alan, Zero, Brian, Rex, Jose, and Ricky." He pointed them all out one by one. "Naw man, that's Armpit, Squid, Zero, Twitch, Magnet, Zigzag, and I'm X-Ray. Get it right mom." The skinny boy with glasses corrected matter-of-factly. He seemed to be the leader. "Whatever makes you feel more comfortable, Rex. Behave, Caden. Boys, don't bug her." The sadly short and dorky counselor left the tent. He had said his name, but I didn't really care. What're you here for?" I didn't say anything. "Man, she's just a female version of Zero. Don't even bother. Girl, your cot's over there." The round boy, Armpit he was called, pointed to the mattress at the back of the tent, closest to Zero. "'Cept Zero don't wear stilettos or miniskirts or baby doll t-shirts though." The one called Magnet sensibly pointed out in his Spanish accent. "Or make-up. Hey Zero, is there something you're not telling us?" Zigzag snickered. I wanted to punch him. I was about level with him, or close enough to look straight into his eyes. He happened to be standing straight in front of me, but I hadn't been paying attention 'till he spoke, so when he spoke I snapped out of it and squeaked at his closeness and backed up a bit, walking into Squid. Sidestepping both of them held my plaid Dickies messenger bag in front of me and went over to the cot. It stunk like sour milk, among other things. "I heard she's a foster. Hasn't spoken a word since she went in when was six." X-Ray shared with the entire tent. "Seven." I muttered, stuffing various coloured clothing into a crate next to the supposed 'bed'. I don't like it when people get facts wrong. "See! She does too talk, just like I thought!" Zigzag shouted indignantly, bouncing on his heels.

Everyone stared, looking back I'm not sure if they were staring because I had just spoken or because Zigzag was right for once. "So… where do you come from?" Twitch broke the silence with his unanswerable question. "Nowhere." Truthfully I had no idea where the heck I came from. Why I decided to start talking here and now I don't know, maybe it's because I don't feel threatened here, like everyone is my equal. I'm changing now, even though they were still all there. I don't really care. "C'mon, everyone's from somewhere." Magnet prodded. "My mother, OK? I don't know where I come from. I don't come from anywhere. Is that good enough for you?" I bursted. Stupid boys ask too many damn questions. This is why I quit talking in the first place. Everyone was always asking stupid useless questions and then prodding until I answered them. So I just stopped answering altogether. They were all watching me, eyes glued to me. I realize they probably haven't seen a girl in ages, much less an half-naked one. I was still wearing my black Nena 'Leck Mich' baby tee, but I guess just legs and a bit of stomach were enough. "Y'all quit staring." I demanded, pulling the hideous jumpsuit on and tying the sleeves around my hips. I'm somewhat repulsed from the following wolf-whistles. "Sod off. Stupid idiots have no respect for women." I brush my side swept hot pink bangs out of my eyes. I turn around, rifling through my bag. Finally I find what I'm looking for, a small razor blade. You can never be too careful. I'm at a boys detention camp, for gods sake, and if they were stupid enough to not check my bag then I was gonna carry something to protect myself with. "Damn, Chica you got long hair." I flinch away from him. Not particularly fond of being touched by complete strangers. "I said bugger off, you." I snap, eying him warily. You can never be too sure of one's intentions.

"Well what'd you do to get in here, Fighter?" X-Ray asked. Funny, I hadn't remembered anyone called Fighter. "Who the hell is Fighter?" I ask from my perch on the mattress, sitting up on my heels, answering his question with my own. "Fighter is you, shorty." Zigzag answers, patting the top of my head. I'm pulling my long hair over my shoulder now to braid it. It ends up in a single loose plait. "What did YOU do, X-Ray?" She loved playing this game with people, answer all the questions with the same question to the other person. "Stole." He mumbled. It was probably something stupid, too. "Lemme see, I'm in here for… arson, fighting, underage drinking, fake i.d., graffiti, excessive violence, eluding the police, injuring an officer, running away from a girls' home, theft… and a few other things, it's hard to remember all of them sometimes. I have my flaws. I'll be here long after you boys leave. Good old great grandma Kate… just following in her turquoise-studded boot steps."

"Holy Mary, mother of God, she's more loco than Ziggy! No offense, 'Zag. Eso es caliente, yo tiene gusto de ella." (I'm not Spanish so I don't know if that would work in the sentence…)Magnet almost yelled, getting excited. "Calm down, you insane little Chihuahua. It's not that impressive." I retort. "Hey Twitch –" I randomly turn to the kid who had unfortunately been standing next to the cot as I whacked him across the face with my braid. "You ever hotwired a Camaro?" "Uh-uh." "Seriously? Boy, you don't know what you're missing. It is so awesome." I launch my plot to get them off the subject of my arrest. Twitch's short legs are bouncing and his fingers are drumming on his knee. "I stole a Mustang." Twitch half boasted. "Oh god, 'Stangs are a riot! One of my foster brothers had a 'Stang. He let me drive it once. He was one cool guy. But see then I got arrested for… well you don't really need to know what happened. Shame, though. I really liked Hawaii." "No shit, you lived in Hawaii? I think I love you! I'm only from Arkansas. Lucky." Zigzag was enthused. "Yeah, and about every other state, not to mention Canada, London… But I think Puerto Rico was my favourite. New Zealand was beautiful." "Chica, you can come to Puerto Rico with me any time." I wasn't sure if he was just trying to get me into – er, his cot – or if he was genuinely serious. I arched my left eyebrow at him.

"Let's go to the wreck room, who's in?" Armpit asked after intently watching me and Magnet bicker back and forth over the underlying intentions of his statement for about 10 minutes along with the rest of the tent. Our argument went something like this:

"That was totally a line to get in my pants – erm – hideous orange jumpsuit!"

"Was not! I was serious! Amo Puerto Rico!"

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Was – what, Armpit?"

"I asked if y'all wanted to go to the Wreck Room with us, but y'all were too busy fighting over if Magnet was trying to get into C – Fighter's pants or not, which he wasn't." Armpit huffed, out of breath. "Sorry." Magnet and I spoke at the same time. "That's better. Y'all comin' or not? I ain't gonna wait no three hours for y'all to sit around to argue about it, neither."

The next week wore on for what seemed like years, and by Saturday my blisters became callouses, I had been harassed multiple times pertaining to my gender, and had exploded at Magnet about every single word he said. I refused to eat the food for the first three days, couldn't sleep on the wretched cot for three, and learned another girl would be joining us on Wednesday.


	3. Of Which Carmen Arrives And Becomes Pyro

Disclaimer: Enough of this rubbish! huff Obviously I don't own Holes! And I don't falsely claim to own Holes! The plot and additional original characters are the creation of my own twisted mind.

**Uncovered Holes**

_Chapter 2: Of Which Carmen Arrives and becomes 'Pyro'_

POV – Carmen Soledad AKA Pyro

I stepped off the bus and my flowy brown ankle length skirt immediately whipped around my legs. I had the sudden urge to run as fast as I dared, but I didn't. I hate this place already. Some people call me paranoid. I'm not, really, I swear. You don't believe me, do you?! Well I'm not. I'M NOT PARANOID! They told me there was another girl here. Only one. The rest were boys. Useless, good-for-nothing, kniving criminal boys. I'm sixteen, but you probably couldn't tell at a glance. I'm curvy and 6'2, a very odd combination if you ask me. Or like my friend Diego, looking up at me in all his 5'3 glory(also a pyro, like me), used to say, 'just plain strange.' The top half of my chin length dark brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. No matter how hard I tried it would not all go up, so I settled for putting my black bandana around my forehead. The cop roughly yanked me into a tiny cramped excuse for an office. Then he left. He left me stranded in the desert with nothing.

I'll admit, I really didn't believe the yellow spotted lizard jazz the dorky 'counselor'(I had doubts about his title) shoved at me until we saw one and he started screaming like a girl. It was a lizard! Big deal. I went to kick it when the old prune of a guy from inside the registration area came bolting wildly out of the office waving a gun around over his head. In mere seconds, where my foot had rested just seconds earlier, the lizard began screeching and spluttering before the contents of it's blood stream was splattered across the hard sandy ground. I practically jumped backward onto the little man.

"Well - " He squeaked – "Let's go see if we can find Caden, she'll show you around and introduce you to the boys."

Idiots. They were all blithering idiots. Caden was awesome, but all the guys were drooling like rabid hounds faced with a giant steak. I mean, I'm wearing a skirt, but damn. It's down to the freaking ground. It literally felt like they were undressing me with their eyes. I wanted to kill them. Even the cute ones. They were all little sexist pigs. No, not pigs. Pigs are clean, gentle, intelligent creatures. Sexist arses was more like it.

"Ignore them, it's what they're used to. Y'all quit starin' at her! Hi. I'm Caden. You can call me Fighter if you like, or just Caden. I don't care which. And these buffoons – "

She motioned toward the group of scattered boys –

"Are my D-Tent bitches. Everyone say hi." She commanded.

I liked her already. We were going to get along just fine.

"Carmen Soledad." I turned to the rest of the tent, flashing my warning stare.

"Lets get a few things straight. DO NOT call me Meme, or Carmel, or Car, or Carma. Carmen and Carmen only. I'm a pyromaniac. Basically, you get between Carmen and fire, Carmen attacks. Nice and simple for you unicellular beings. I AM NOT PARANOID. My psychiatrist says I have a vivid imagination and I suffer from moderate to severe paranoia. It's all lies. So don't call me paranoid. Ever. Lastly, I don't like guys. I just don't… so if you value the ability to create children in your future, don't touch me. Just… Don't. You all got that? Good."

And so my hell began.

"I don't believe it. I can't believe it. We, you and I, the only girls ever to grace Camp Green Lake with our presence, are getting our own tent. I don't believe it." Caden announced to me two days later.

I was attempting to braid Zig-Zag's crazy hair (yes, odd I know, but HE asked) when she burst into the tent (the old one) around 8:00 in the evening.

"Cay, you're not thinking rationally. Stop. Breathe. Think. Why on earth would we get our own tent? There are two of us." I asked, pulling her down onto an adjacent cot by her elbow, and yanking on Zig's hair rougher than I had intended.

"Ow, Pyro be careful you oaf!" He shouted.

"Oh, sorry, did that _hurt_?" I mocked, pulling his head back purposefully by the hair. He began spluttering.

"Now who's the oaf?" I let go of his head and gave up on my pointless braiding.

"Sorry man, your hair's too wild." I pushed him away playfully.

"There're more girls coming. Five of 'em. That's why we're getting the tent. They want to make this into a co-ed camp… It'll never work, of course." Caden added.

"Why?!" Zig-Zag shouted indignantly. "Don't they trust us?!"

"Um, no. We're criminals, why would they trust us, hmmm? It won't work for more than six months. You'll see. Just watch what happens."

I hate digging. I hate it." I complained.

"Now then Carmen, I guess you should have thought of that before you decided to go and burn your school down." Pendanski explained in his fake psychologist mindset one night at 'group' meeting #4.

"Chica, you burned your school down? Man, I wish this chick went to my school." Magnet cut in.

"It needed to be remodeled – " I began, only to be cut off by Caden.

"Pendanski, that makes no sense. How could she possibly have known that if she burned down her school she'd be sent to an ALL-BOYS CAMP? How is that logical? You're insane."

Pendanski shot back, "Now wait a minute. We are slowly becoming a well-rounded, co-ed detention facility. You girls just don't seem to see that. You're getting your own showers, bathroom, and tent. Everything will be fantastic."

"Oh quit your preaching, you stupid imbecile. You know that once your little single-tent experiment is through, you'll get rid of all of us girls and go right back to being a 'boys only' camp. It's inevitable with your type of funding." I argued.

"Look, I'm not going to sit here with you and bicker about the future of this camp. It's dinner time. Go on." He instructed, now completely avoiding the subject.

"Yeah whatever, man." Armpit said, marching out of the tent first.

Splat. Splat. Splat. The sound of 'food' hitting trays sickens me. Is this stuff gonna be digestible? I ask myself in my own head. I'm craving chocolate, I have been for the past three hours. What Caden said started an internal argument. They really didn't want us here. They only wanted the money they were getting because of us, and the extra digging help. The funding was unreasonable to begin with. I ran around in circles, or rather, the opposing sides in my head ran around in circles well into the night.

I was blasted out of my dream where I'm dating Orlando Bloom this morning at three A.M., and almost strangled the nearest innocent pillow in the process. I slipped on an over-large black t-shirt and jeans underneath my jumpsuit, ignoring the fact that we were stranded in the middle of the desert, working under the hot sun all day. I tied a neon green (it's hard to see in the dark you know) bandana around my forehead.

"Caden. Wakey-wakey." I say, nudging her still sleeping form in the side with my toe.

"How can she sleep through that?" I ask Armpit in disbelief, the closest person.

"Dude, her name's Fighter. How do you think she sleeps through it? She's a stubborn-ass chick. Kinda like a rock, only with a personality." He responded dazedly.

"I heard that." She groaned, chucking her pillow at him.

"Ooh, don't bug her, 'Pit, she might, ya know, knock you down and sleep on top of you or somethin'." Magnet joked, and was answered by a roll of socks coming into contact with his face.

After dragging Caden from her cot by her feet, wrestling her down and tickling her until she woke up completely, Zig-Zag was very bruised and cross, and my stomach was growling like there was no tomorrow. It lurched to a screeching halt when I spotted our 'breakfast'. Was that edible? I wondered as I stared at the tortillas smothered with honey. Pendanski handed me a little green pill and paper cup filled with water.

"I don't take pills." I protested, lying through my teeth to avoid taking my dreaded meds.

"Carmen, now, don't be silly. You know you have to take pills for your ADHD every morning. Doctor's orders. You have to take them, or you'll have to dig two holes for a week instead of one." He bribed, or rather, threatened.

"Fine." I huffed, popping the pill into my mouth.

"Let's see." He prodded.

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out.

"Okay, you can go now." He said, satisfied, as Mr. Sir ( I still sniggered at the name) led us to the place where we'd dig today.

"Dig." He commanded, going away.

I spit the pill into the nearest hole, kicking the side in a bit with my boot.

"Naughty, naughty. Would you look at that, Magnet? Our friend Pyro over here isn't taking her meds. I wonder how long it'll take before she's bouncing off the sides of her hole?" Squid taunted.

"Shut your face or my fist will be bouncing off your stomach." That shut him up.

The food had looked even nastier than it sounded. I refused to eat it.

"You'll be regretting it by 6:00 this mornin'." Ziz-Zag teased.

"I don't care. Being hungry will be much healthier than eating something that looks like a baby spit up all over it." I retorted disgustedly.

And after standing under the hot sun for three hours after sunrise I did regret it, horribly.


End file.
